Post by Tomas on Dec 18, 2023 22:15:57 GMT
In recently read memoirs by illustrious Swedish Papal Marquis Claes Lagergren (1853-1930) one episode may be fit to relate here? From diary of 1926, in Rome, he wrote of a thereto unknown lady noticed in passing in the chapel of the Birgitta/Bridgetine Sisters at Piazza Farnese. This was around the time when resently canonised Mother Maria Elisabeth Hesselblad (1870-1957) made the place and the order return to more active life after centuries in quite slow motion outwards. The Papal chamberlain Lagergren was also present as courier of sorts to help making the purchase go through.
In a sideline he wrote the following (my fast translation, may have some English errors):
"A black-dressed woman."
Easter Monday I made a visit to the Birgitta cloister, since mother Elisabeth had written and let me know that, a young Norwegian priest from Oslo would be preaching. The songs were full of atmosphere, though of the priest´s sermon I didn´t understand a word. Near to the left of me I saw a tall, elderly, black-dressed woman with white hair, whom the whole time was on her knees bent in prayer. I couldn´t miss to be attached to her. She was rather unsightly yet made at the same time a distinguished impression.
Few days later became the memorable day, when Mussolini´s nosewings became scrubbed by a revolver bullet, that an elderly Irish-woman, a Miss Violet Gibson, shot from the Conservatorial Palace stairs upon Capitoleum. En boom thundered. Il Duce, as he now proudly called himself, took his hand to the nose. It became full of blood. The blood streamed down over the shirt torso. A surgeon, who stood beside, hurried to lay compress. They led back Mussolini to the Conservatorial Palace as also the woman, that the crowd wanted to lynch. When I saw her photograph in the newspapers, I reckognised her - it was her, who kneeling prayed so piously beside me in the little church of Birgittinerna/the Bridgetines.
To the Bridgetines this became a harsh beating. Hardly twenty minutes after the attempt arrived thirteen detectives and a group of carabinieri and surrounded their cloister. One of them demanded to speak to mother Elisabeth. To his question, if any Irish-woman lived there, she showed one of her young nuns. "No, it was en elderly woman." "Oh yes, here lives a paying guest since the beginning of the month, Miss Violet Gibson" said mother Elisabeth. The man looked in his papers. "Yes, that´s her name." He gave a signal. The house´s inner yard and garden were surrounded immediately by carabinieri. They did checks everywhere, beginning in the room, where Violet Gibson had stayed. There lay a letter on the table addressed to her brother. Her father had been governor in Ireland. There is no doubt about, had Mussolini been shot down by Miss Gibson, then had the entire cloister been breaked down to the ground, and neither mother Elisabeth nor any of her nuns would have survived the catastrophe.
Some days later I visited the Birgitta cloister to see, how things stood with mother Elisabeth and her nuns. The portal was opened to my surprise by a young high raised carabinieri, and when I came in I saw, that two other carabineri stood guard. When I then passed over the yard a whole bunch other carabinieri came in sight. They were all young stately men. I couldn´t defend to think, that the entire cloister supervision made impression as from some glad operetta. The nuns didn´t look at all sorrowful, the opposite! Mother Elisabeth was on the other hand concerned over the expenses for food to the fourteen carabinieri, but they were well treated and were so pleased, that they continuously cheered for mother Elisabeth, when they saw her: "Viva la madre superiora!"
In a sideline he wrote the following (my fast translation, may have some English errors):
"A black-dressed woman."
Easter Monday I made a visit to the Birgitta cloister, since mother Elisabeth had written and let me know that, a young Norwegian priest from Oslo would be preaching. The songs were full of atmosphere, though of the priest´s sermon I didn´t understand a word. Near to the left of me I saw a tall, elderly, black-dressed woman with white hair, whom the whole time was on her knees bent in prayer. I couldn´t miss to be attached to her. She was rather unsightly yet made at the same time a distinguished impression.
Few days later became the memorable day, when Mussolini´s nosewings became scrubbed by a revolver bullet, that an elderly Irish-woman, a Miss Violet Gibson, shot from the Conservatorial Palace stairs upon Capitoleum. En boom thundered. Il Duce, as he now proudly called himself, took his hand to the nose. It became full of blood. The blood streamed down over the shirt torso. A surgeon, who stood beside, hurried to lay compress. They led back Mussolini to the Conservatorial Palace as also the woman, that the crowd wanted to lynch. When I saw her photograph in the newspapers, I reckognised her - it was her, who kneeling prayed so piously beside me in the little church of Birgittinerna/the Bridgetines.
To the Bridgetines this became a harsh beating. Hardly twenty minutes after the attempt arrived thirteen detectives and a group of carabinieri and surrounded their cloister. One of them demanded to speak to mother Elisabeth. To his question, if any Irish-woman lived there, she showed one of her young nuns. "No, it was en elderly woman." "Oh yes, here lives a paying guest since the beginning of the month, Miss Violet Gibson" said mother Elisabeth. The man looked in his papers. "Yes, that´s her name." He gave a signal. The house´s inner yard and garden were surrounded immediately by carabinieri. They did checks everywhere, beginning in the room, where Violet Gibson had stayed. There lay a letter on the table addressed to her brother. Her father had been governor in Ireland. There is no doubt about, had Mussolini been shot down by Miss Gibson, then had the entire cloister been breaked down to the ground, and neither mother Elisabeth nor any of her nuns would have survived the catastrophe.
Some days later I visited the Birgitta cloister to see, how things stood with mother Elisabeth and her nuns. The portal was opened to my surprise by a young high raised carabinieri, and when I came in I saw, that two other carabineri stood guard. When I then passed over the yard a whole bunch other carabinieri came in sight. They were all young stately men. I couldn´t defend to think, that the entire cloister supervision made impression as from some glad operetta. The nuns didn´t look at all sorrowful, the opposite! Mother Elisabeth was on the other hand concerned over the expenses for food to the fourteen carabinieri, but they were well treated and were so pleased, that they continuously cheered for mother Elisabeth, when they saw her: "Viva la madre superiora!"
